I Rarely Write for Myself

I used to keep a journal. What first inspired me to do so was after reading Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson. It was essentially a story about a girl who had been through similar things to me as far as being raped goes. It's something I've experienced and though it hurt me dearly, though it was on my mind constantly, it was never anything I wrote about in my journal. Part of me is glad I didn't... because my father found my diary one day.

I think he sucked out any drive had ever since then. I've always tries keeping blogs and such, but I never get feedback. Then again, I'm happy to just have a place to write when I feel like getting stuff off my mind for a while. I can almost sit here and meditate, typing with my eyes closed while I just... write.

He is dead now. My father is gone and he can't hurt me or anyone ever again. My boyfriend isn't the type to take things away from me just to spite me or just to see what I'm doing. He's never once done that to me -- so what am I so afraid of when it comes to keeping a journal? I'm not afraid of someone stealing my journal or threatening to turn it in to my principal or something like that. I'm a thirty year old woman and if I want to keep a journal about my thoughts and life, I can and I will. Hell, if I want to make that my tumblr... again, I will.

So what's with all the apprehensiveness? What exactly is it that's sucked out any and all desire from me? I used to love writing. I mean, I still do, obviously... but I mean I used to love writing all the time. All the time! I would during study hall, during the night when I can't sleep, during a class I shoulda payed more attention in... hell, most people from high school know me as either the girl who went psycho and beat up someone... or the one girl who was always writing something. Heh... hey, I had a thing. Cool.

Why do we even write in journals? Is it to get the attention of Mom or Dad when they finally go snooping? Is it to get things out and hopefully forget about them? I understand if one is studying and wants to keep a collection of notes... but the process of journaling, writing, blogging our feelings, who decided it helps? I suppose if you have a large following nowdays, it helps... because someone will reach out to you.

But the diary I had when I was, like, nine... nobody reached out to me about that. Not if I hid it really well. It was important to keep those feelings a secret. So secret it had to be put in a physical thing I could hide. I'll never understand this urge I have to write. I have an even greater urge to be heard, though... ask me some personal shit!